


Another Day in Paradise

by abigail89



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Caretaking, M/M, Medical Procedures, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 20:42:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1199538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abigail89/pseuds/abigail89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a long, full, miserable day in sickbay, Jim makes sure his Bones is taken care of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Day in Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Jim & Bones Sweethearts challenge 2014 for the prompt: _TLC: Bones has had a long, miserable day (exams, surgeries, flight sims - your pick). All Jim wants to do is take care of him. Bones POV_
> 
> Many thanks to my awesome brain-twin weepingnaiad for the very helpful beta and for the word warring sessions that moved this thing along. Could not have done this without you, bb! As always, any remaining mistakes and stupidity are mine alone.  
>  **Disclaimer** : I do not own these characters, but they do own me. No money is being made, no disrespect is intended. I’m just letting them play together in ways Gene Roddenberry couldn’t.

When the comm goes off at 0544, it’s never a good thing.

“Dr. McCoy, sorry to wake you. But there’s been an injury on the away team.”

“Okay, yep, I’m up,” Leo McCoy says sleepily in the comm unit. “Be there in five.”

“I’ve got it under control,” comes the strong voice of his second, Geoff M’Benga. “But we might have more incoming, and with Telari off on assignment, things might get hairy.”

Leo is up and moving. “I’m nearly finished dressing. McCoy out.” Leo heads to the bathroom to take a piss and sighs as he does. _Great. We would have an emergency first thing._

It isn’t always like this, a jolting start to the Enterprise’s ‘day’. Usually things are pretty quiet--Jim would say “boring”--punctuated by chance encounters with Klingons with a hard-on for Jim, unknown life forms that take umbrage with their stomping around on their planet, Klingons, the occasional Romulan warbird found skirting this side of the Neutral Zone, and even disasters of their own making in some form or another. And, oh yeah, Klingons. Another day in paradise. Another day with Captain James T. Kirk. Another day in space, which on the whole, is pretty...boring. He likes boring. Quiet.

He washes his hands and splashes water on his face. “Hey, Jim! Jim!” Leo calls out from around the edge of the doorway. “Jim!”

“What?” Jim sits bolt upright in the bed, sheets sliding down his bare chest to pool in his lap. “Yeah, what?”

“Hey, we’ve got an emergency on the planet surface,” Leo says drying off.

“Really? Damn it, why didn’t anyone call me?”

“Because it’s medical and because they knew I’d let you know.”

“Shit.” Jim rubs his hands over his still asleep face, and rolls over to crawl out of bed. “I hate it when there’s a problem first thing.”

“You and me both.” Leo gives his captain a kiss as he squeezes into the head beside him. “Geoff has it, but there may be more incoming.” He picks up the sonic razor and pushes ‘on’. He runs it over his face.

“Yeah. Go,” Jim says. “I’ll be on the bridge to check in with the team. Wonder why Spock didn’t alert me?”

Leo takes his arm. “But it’s medical. Broken leg that needs a bit of surgery.”

“Bones,” Jim says, flushing the john and hip-checking Leo to wash his hands, “there’s no fucking way I’m not gonna be available to my crew, especially when they’re in danger. End of discussion.”

“You have to take this day off, Jim. It's mandated by Starfleet,” Leo says. “'You have the best crew in the damn universe. Trust them.”

Jim nods and sighs. “I do, it’s just. . .It's hard, though.”

Leo leans in and kisses him. “I know, darlin'. But you have to take care of yourself, you know.”

“And when do you take care of yourself, Doctor? Hmm? Isn't today one of your mandatory days off?”

“No, it isn't. Just thought I could get away with taking at least part of the day with you.” He looks back into the mirror and runs a comb through his hair, careful to make the final swoosh with his bangs. “Mine is next month when I have to go to that conference on Riegel IV, remember? Seems the only time I can truly take time off is when Medical demands I make an appearance.”

“At least Boyce will buy you dinner and get you drunk.”

Leo smirks. “There is that, but I don't get drunk any more, do I?” It was a damn foolish thing to agree to, but he and Jim had made a pact last Federation New Years' that they were getting too damn old to get blinding drunk. Besides, they both couldn't remember what had happened afterwards, and that was a too-scary thing.

“Right,” Jim says, clapping Leo on the shoulder. “New leaf, new year, new men and all that. We drink better booze for less effect.” He shakes his head. “That was a stupid thing.”

“We're too old and have way too many responsibilities to do that shit any more. I feel better about it already,” Leo says, lying through his teeth. He exits the head and goes to the closet; opening it, he extracts a blue tunic that he knows will be replaced by the light gray scrub shirt once he reaches sickbay. Jim joins him at the closet, pulling out his gold tunic.

“You're off duty. Put on something else,” Leo says.

“Well, I'm going to go to the bridge, check on the away team,” he says, putting on the black wicking undershirt. “Maybe get something done. Meet you for lunch?”

“I will meet you for lunch only if you promise me you'll take the rest of the day off. Why don't you read the next installment in that series you're working your way through? The one about the nineteenth century Naval captain?”

“Hmm, not a bad idea,” Jim says, “but only after I get the skinny on the away team.”

They sit on the bed and simultaneously pull on their boots. “Well, I'm pretty sure it's nothing to worry about. M'Benga just wanted me to know because he was prepping the injured crewman for surgery. It's standard procedure for us.”

He kisses Jim as they stand and prepare to part for the day. “Sorry this didn't work out the way we'd planned.” He wraps his arms about him.

“When does it ever go according to plan?” Jim pushes his nose into Leo's neck and inhales; this little gesture never fails to make Leo smile. He knows it's Jim's way of taking a small piece of him, of their love and their relationship, with him for the day.

“Well, more often than you'd think. You're just bummed because you have to take this day off.”

“True.” Jim pulls back and lifts his eyes, the blue clear and crystalline and beautiful, so beautiful it makes Leo's heart race a little. “Miss you.”

“Miss you more.” He kisses Jim sweetly, momentarily thinking he'd love nothing more than to tell the world to go to hell and just keep kissing this man until the end of time, then ends it by pulling back and touching his forehead to Jim's.

They exit the cabin into the flow of personnel going to and fro. Some are in uniform looking slightly sleepy; some are dressed in exercise togs, civilian wear and robes with wet hair. They all say 'good morning' or some equivalent to them as they make their way to the turbolift. Leo spots one of his more recent patients who has obviously just worked out. “Ensign, how's the hand?” he asks.

“Good as new, doc,” the young man says, holding up a hand that yesterday had a deep gash in it. “Can't even tell it was hurt.”

“Excellent. Carry on.”

They cram into a turbolift with some of the sleepy ones, crew members dressed and ready to start their shifts. “Good morning, all,” Jim says.

“Good morning, Captain,” they reply.

Jim's crew is not only the best, but fiercely loyal to him. He watches as Jim interacts with each one, by name. He wonders if other captains in the fleet know even the the lowliest of crewmen, as these four are.

“You all stay safe and have great day,” Jim says as they exit the lift. The dining room is across the hall. “Want something to eat?” he asks.

“Nah, I need to get a move on. I'll send a corpsman up for something soon. And I can get coffee in sickbay. Chapel makes amazing coffee.” He squeezes Jim's hand. “Later, Captain.”

Jim squeezes back. “Later, Doctor.”

It's their cover and code for everything about their relationship: _Love you. Miss you. See you later._ Even though they've been out to their crew for years, they still keep the displays of affection to a minimum. It's just how they roll.

Leo runs his fingers through his hair as he strides towards sickbay, hopeful that maybe, just maybe, he'll be able to find some time to spend with Jim.

*~*

But it is not to be.

Sickbay is full, uncomfortably so. “Good god!” Leo exclaims. “Why didn't y'all call me?”

“Morning, Dr. McCoy,” Dr. M'Benga says. He's running an osteo-regenerator over a crewman's arm. “Ensign Kim here has a slight fracture at the wrist joint.”

“And just how did Ensign Kim fracture her wrist?” Leo says, coming over to assist. He feels a good rant coming on about how people need to pay attention and take care and not be so stupid.

“Banged it really hard on a jeffries tube in main engineering,” she says, a bit tearful. “It hurts so much.” She's shaking and pale and looks like she could fall over.

That slows him down. “It's these little things that hurt the most,” Leo says gently. He looks up and catches one of the nurse's eye. “Jason, let's give our clumsy engineer a little pain relief while her bone heals.” He gives the young woman, who looks like she's just out of high school, a smile as he takes the hypospray and then depresses it into her neck. “We're gonna keep you around for another thirty minutes.” He runs the tricorder over the injury, satisfied with the findings. “Keep an eye on you while you relax a little and let your body finish healing, okay? Jason is gonna get you a blanket to keep you warm and check to see if you're comfortable.” Jason nods as he covers Kim up and checks the biobed readings.

“She's stable,” he says.

“I know she is, but she's shocky. Small injuries can be just as devastating as the big ones,” Leo says softly. “Watch her.”

Leo pulls his second to the rear of the sickbay. “Okay, Geoff, give me the rundown.”

The doctors lean up against the counter as M'Benga runs through active cases. “The away team has two injured members, both caused by not paying attention to their surroundings. One is serious: internal injuries and a badly fractured leg when she fell off a damned cliff. She's being stabilized in pre-op. I'd really appreciate your help.”

“Of course. What about the other?”

“Lt. Commander Jaeger tripped over a rock trying to get to Lieutenant Maxwell. Banged up his knee pretty good, knocked himself out for a few minutes and has a mild concussion. And someone had the bright idea to eat some of the native fruits.” Geoff rubbed his forehead. “The scans were all fine, except there was something that kicked off some unfortunate allergic reactions in the human members of the team. Puking, hives, stuff like that. The puking is the worst.”

“It always is.”

“Chapel has Maxwell in pre-op. Davies is with the sick ones and Jaeger.”

Leo sighs and picks up a PADD, calling up the duty roster. “Just another day in paradise. Okay, let's call for more troops to cover us. Davies has been on for a double shift; let's give her some time off to sleep and then bring her back on sometime during Beta. Chapel can run things after we get Maxwell into surgery, and with Telari out, we'll have to get Sanchez to be on-call. I know he pulled several doubles this week, but it can't be helped.”

M'Benga checked off the personnel needed on his PADD and sent out the message to them. “Done, Boss.”

At that, Christine Chapel appears. “Maxwell is ready for surgery, doctors. I've assigned P'taloy to assist you so I can run triage.”

Leo smiles. “You're always two steps ahead of us, Chris.”

“The captain left some yogurt and a bagel in your office a few minutes ago. He said you hadn't eaten breakfast.” She pats him on the back. “Fresh pot of coffee will be ready in three.”

“God bless you,” Leo says fervently as he makes his way to his office. “What would we all do without you?”

“Probably kill each other,” she replies, bemused.

*~*

Two hours or so later, Lt. Maxwell is in recovery and Leo is into his third cup of coffee. Pleased with Maxwell's status, he leaves the surgical suite to step into...

Utter chaos.

“Jesus, Mary & Joseph,” he mutters as he surveys the totally overrun triage area. “Chapel! What the hell is going on?”

Christine pushes a blonde curl out of her eyes. “Someone on the surface beamed up a bunch of containers full of those apples before the symptoms manifested. So Delta shift ate them as well as the early birds on Alpha. We've got a lot of sick folks!” She's holding a pan in front of a small African woman who looks absolutely miserable.

All the beds, chairs and counters are occupied by crewmembers, mostly human, holding a container; the air is rent by the sound of retching from five different beds.

“Has anyone from biochem run tests on what it is exactly that's causing this reaction?” Leo says. He jumps to one side as a member of the dining staff lets fly.

At that moment Jim enters sickbay; he's wearing jeans and a faded SFA Phoenixes t-shirt. “What's going on, Bones?”

“Not a good time, Captain. Just turn around and leave. And for the love of all that's holy, do _not_ eat any of those damned apples. Gather 'em up, and airlock 'em, Jim!” Three more crew puke.

Jim backs out, standing inside the doorway. “Got it. You okay, guys? Need anything?”

“Yeah, for you to court martial the idiot who sent those apples up,” Leo shoots back.

*~*

“Bones!” Jim calls from the door of sickbay. “Can I come in?”

“Only if you have good news for me.” Leo's checking on two of his patients along the bank of biobeds on the far wall.

“It is. We isolated the problem with the apples and have an antidote.”

Leo looks up into Jim's shining face and the hand holding a covered flask with a light purple solution. “Oh, my god. I want to kiss you right now.”

“Well, I'm not stopping you.” Jim leans over and gives him a kiss on the cheek. “Yeah, once the biochem people knew what was going on, they zeroed in on a couple of obvious possibilities, and then we brought in the biology and even the inorganic chemistry people, divided up into teams and went after it. I've never had so much fun in chem lab!”

“You helped?”

“Yeah, Well, I mean, I handed things to people and read the numbers off the mass spectrometer. But it was great! They cranked up some funky Tellarite dance music and we rocked through the protocols.” Jim's so excited he's bouncing on the balls of his sneaker-clad feet. “Makes me wish I'd stuck with pure science.”

Leo is so impressed he thinks he could shed a tear or two. “You'd be bored silly, you know,” he says, taking the flask from him. “Any idea the dosage?”

“O'Halloran says [a] 4ml to each 50 kilos. Less if they're finished puking and just waiting for the chemical to clear their systems.”

Leo nods, spinning the liquid in the light. “Sounds about right. Hey, Chris! Let's get this into our patients, starting with the ones still actively throwing up.”

Christine looks a little worse for wear; her usually impeccably coiffed blonde hair has been pulled back into a practical ponytail and she's wearing scrubs instead of a duty uniform. He's not much better: he's on his third set of gray scrubs and smells. She gives Jim a hug. “You've saved us!” she says with a trace of irony and a lot of weariness.

“Aww, it was nothing.”

“No, it is everything,” she says fervently. She heads to the prep area and starts loading hypospray ampules.

Leo reaches for a PADD and begins to note dosage amounts for each patient. “Jim, you've made a lot of people here very happy. Now, I know you had fun playing with the chemists, but why don't you find a quiet place and curl up with a book?”

Jim follows him around to the other biobeds. “I will. Just wanted to spend a moment with you,” he says quietly. He does a doubletake and strides over to a far bed; he takes the hand of Nyota Uhura, who is lying still. “Oh, no. Not you, too, Nyota!”

“Yes, me, too. I haven't felt this bad in years,” she says with a grimace.

“Well, we'll have you feeling better in two shakes of a sehlat's tail,” Leo says, taking a hypospray from Christine. He calculates the dose and depresses it into her neck. Within several second, her readouts adjust downward and she opens her eyes.

“You're right! Oh my god, I feel so much better.” She pats Jim's hand. “That was amazing.”

“Modern medicine is a wonderful thing, ain't it?” Leo goes to the next patient and the next, administering Jim's cure and watches as each revives with an exclamation. “Now, I know y'all are feeling much better, but I want you to stick around here and let us monitor you, all right? This is on-the-fly medicine so we want to make sure the cure isn't worse than the cause.”

The entire sickbay comes to life once again. Jim visits with every crew member, shaking hands and squeezing shoulders. It is akin to a miracle, though Leo knows it's just good chemistry.

“Everyone just take it easy for a while longer. Some of you were dehydrated, so don't mess with your I.V.s. You need the fluids.” Leo makes notes on the PADDs for each patient. “Chris, give Scotty a buzz and tell him to dial back on the airflow in here. Since everyone has stopped puking, I think we're safe. And, get the medical clean-up team in here to give everything a good going-over, especially the floor.”

While he's giving everyone directions and checking with each previously ill crew, the doors swish open and two red-shirted beings come through. “Accident in engineering,” one of them gasps, as she falls into Jim's arms.

“Bones, she's bleeding!” Jim shouts. His t-shirt turns a dark red.

“Shit!” Leo exclaims, running over to him. He lifts the young woman in his arms. “Shit, shit, shit! Everyone clear out to Rec Room 1! Jim, take the ambulatory ones down to the rec room and make them stay for thirty minutes. If they stay well, let 'em go. And help the ones with the I.V.s unhook the bags and get them down there, too. I'll send a nurse in a minute.” He puts the unconscious crew member on the trauma bed. “Geoff! Need some help NOW!”

He's barely aware of Jim escorting crew out as he grabs a tricorder and begins barking orders to Chapel, who is by his side. “Dermal sealant, stat!”

*~*

In all, they treat eight engineers. Scotty brings two down to medical himself, then collapses in a chair. Leo notices him when he falls over. “Oh, no you don't, Montgomery Scott. You owe me a bottle of Macallan next time we hit dirt.” Turns out, Scotty'd lost blood due to an ugly, oozing gash on his thigh, and Leo had had to do some extensive cleaning and repair of muscles and skin. Five were in biobeds, two in surgical recovery with Sanchez, and one released with a healed foot injury.

The Delta shift of nurses, technicians and corpsmen enter sickbay. Leo and Chris give them the run-down of the day, do rounds on their remaining patients, and send out a tech and a nurse to track down the crew who had been affected by the alien apples to try to complete the medical records.

“I am going to sleep for a week,” Chris says wearily. “It's been a long time since we've worked that hard and had so many patients run through here in one day.”

Leo rubs his eye as he scrolls down the PADD checking the last of the surgical notes. “I hear ya. And to think I was gonna try to take the day off.”

“Oh, that's right. It was Jim's mandated day, wasn't it? Wasn't much of one for him either.”

Leo smiles ruefully. “No, but I think he had a good one nonetheless. Got to do some un-captain-y things and hung out with different members of his crew, people he ordinarily doesn't spend much time with.”

Chris laughs. “Jim always manages to have a great time, even in the midst of a crisis.” She lays a comforting hand on him arm. “He's a great captain, Leo. And he's good for you, too.”

Before he can respond, she's walking to the far side of the 'bay to check in with the duty nurse. “You're good for me, too, Chris,” he says softly.

*~*

The doors to their quarters hiss as they slide open. It's warm and lit by spotlamps rather than the overheads. Quiet jazz plays; it's the compilation Jim gave him last year, of songs that invite contemplation, reading, and even romance. He notices the small table they rarely use for anything other than stacking things on has been set; there's even an electronic candle. And, the small common area has been picked up. No books or clothing or that annoying crate of Jim's “antiques” are about. “Huh,” Leo says to himself. “What's going on?”

He heads to their bedroom and finds Jim stretched out on the bed. “Hey, you,” Leo says. “Notice you picked up that hellhole out there.”

“Yes, I did.” He pulls his feet up so Leo can sit. “Because I have a little suprise for you.”

“For me?”

“Yes, you.”

“What'd I do to deserve that?”

Jim leans over and loops his arm around Leo's shoulders. “It's just....I don't often get to see you at work, and today, I was just really impressed. You really took care of people, Bones. I mean, I know you're a great doctor and you do a first-rate job of patching my crew up because our casualty rate is the lowest in the fleet. But you took _care_ of them. You didn't need to hold bedpans for people throwing up; you could've gotten a corpsman to do that. But you did it. Nyota said you were the model of the compassionate healer.”

“Shhh. Don't let anyone else know about that,” Leo says, hanging his head. “I have a reputation to maintain.”

“I think the cat's out of the bag, Bones. People were really impressed.”

“Dammit. How can I harangue people to get their regularly scheduled shots if I can't put the fear of disease and danger into their dark little hearts?”

Jim laughs. “I have no doubt you can scare the bejeezus out of them, but they all appreciated what you did today.”

“And you,” Leo says, jamming his shoulder into Jim's chest, “you played medical researcher today. I got a memo from the biomed team saying they want to draft you next time there's some plague we have to find a cure for. Well done, Captain.”

Jim shrugs. “Anyone can hand over a pipette, believe me.” He hugs Leo closely. “So, I know you had a really tough day. I want to do something for you.”

“Why? For doing my job?”

“Well, sure, but just for having a really long day. Will you let me?”

They don't often “do” things for each other. Sure, they bring each other a PADD or their shirt that happens to be next to them on the bed or another cup of coffee. But they don't make a habit of going out of their way to plan things, especially openly romantic things. They may be, together, in the romance of their lives, but they aren't _romantic_.

Leo sees the sincerity, the desire, the need shining forth from Jim's handsome face. He has a newsflash for everyone: he really cannot say no to Jim, not when he's like this. Not when he looks about ten years younger and he's practically vibrating he's so excited. And no doubt about it, Jim is very excited about doing this for _him_.

He touches Jim's cheek with his finger. “Of course, darlin'.”

Jim gives him a blinding smile as he leans in and places a gentle kiss on Leo's lips. “I'm glad,” he says. “Come on.” He holds his hand out.

“Wait, we're leaving?” Leo asks. “I wanna take my boots off and...”

“Shh, come on, Bones. I know you'll like this.”

He leads them both out of their quarters and down the hall to one of the larger bathrooms. They have their own bath—captain's privilege—but the crew communal baths have one thing their's does not.

“Oh, my god, a bath!”

“Yep,” Jim says. “Since Planet M-425 has water, water that has been thoroughly tested several times using different protocols I might add, we've filled up the tanks. Everyone who wants one can have a bath this week.”

Before them, one of the therapeutic tubs with jet streams bubbles and steams. Jim turns to him, and says, “May I?”

Silently, Leo puts his arms up and Jim strips off his science blue tunic and the soft black undershirt. Ordinarily, this would invite some manner of leering or foreplay, but since they're in a semi-public area, Leo notes Jim only motions him to sit. Jim squats down to remove his boots and socks. “Your feet are hot, Bones,” he remarks quietly.

“Been on 'em for a long time.”

Jim pulls him back up by his hands, and undoes his button and flies, pushing the duty trousers and boxer briefs down his legs, not even commenting that Leo's cock is making a valiant effort to rise for him. “In you go,” Jim says.

Leo slides over the edge of the steel tub and into total bliss. It's several minutes before he can find the words to express how he feels as hot water envelopes him. Jim gets in with him, snugging up behind him; the tub is just large enough to accommodate them and their long legs. “How's this?” Jim whispers in his ear, followed by a lick.

“Heaven,” he replies. “This is exactly what I needed.”

Jim reaches for a bottle of shampoo, Starfleet issue--practical, serviceable and merely 'okay' in the fragrance department. “I'm gonna take care of your body, and the only thing you need to do is enjoy the hot water.”

Leo nods, and loops his hands around Jim's skinny, muscular calves. He slides down to wet his head and comes back up; Jim rubs his hands through his hair in silence.

And oh, lordy, but it feels nice. At the start of their relationship they used to take long showers that involved lots of hands and touching and washing of hair and other body parts. But on a starship with chemical and sonic showers, it just isn’t the same. It's nice to have strong fingers massage around his aching temples, up and down the back of his neck, around his ears and to the top of his head again. Jim does it several times around, each pass loosening the tension Leo hadn't even realized was there.

“Done,” Jim says. “Rinse.”

Leo slides into the water again, and stays for a few seconds while Jim rubs his head again, this time vigorously to wash the shampoo out. He's kind of sorry it's ended but he hopes Jim will give him a backrub, something he enjoys very much.

“Now I'm gonna wash you,” Jim says. “That okay?”

“Sure, Jim.”

A washcloth appears and Jim picks up his arm, rubbing it gently with soap. It's nothing fancy, no especially nice smelling soap or soft cloth, but it feels nice to have each limb, his back, even his feet and toes washed with care by his beloved. Jim soaps up the washcloth again and runs it around his belly in circles. Leo leans his head back into the curve of Jim's shoulder and neck and sighs.

“Feel good?”

Leo nods in place of using words. He's nearly boneless in Jim's arms, languid under his gentle ministrations. The hot water and Jim's warmth and presence, as well as the peace and quiet of the tub room produce within him profound contentment. But as Jim's hand works its way lower on his abdomen, as it skirts the juncture of his penis and body, he shifts in anticipation.

“I've allowed you to nearly fall asleep, haven't I, Bones?” Jim whispers. “I can feel all the tension leave your body. You were so tight when I first took you in my arms, but you're nice and relaxed, aren't you?”

Leo nods and smiles as Jim's hand, now divested on the washcloth, traces a line of promise in the crease of his right thigh, circles under his scrotum, then back again. “I can't have you falling asleep just yet, Bones. Gotta feed you. Make sure you've eaten because I know you didn't have much time to nourish your body. You're on me constantly to eat well. The same goes for you, doctor. Feed your body, feed your mind. Feed your spirit. That's what you tell me.”

He tugs on Leo's cock a few times, enough to perk it—and his brain—up, enough that his breathing hitches, just a little, as Jim's fingers circle lower and grasp his balls again. Then Jim's other hand, the one that's been cradling him tenderly, pinches his left nipple. Jim, the bastard, knows his left nipple has a nerve that is attached directly to his cock, and he hits it hard. Leo jumps as pure electricity courses through him.

“Jim!”

“Gotcha, Bones. Gotcha.” Jim soothes him by stilling his hands, hugging him closely.

Leo cants his head around to kiss Jim's ear. “You gonna make good on that?”

Jim smiles. “In due time. But not now.” He pushes Leo forward. “So now that you're all clean and don't smell like puke anymore, it's time for dinner! Oh, and pull the plug.” He gets out of the tub in one smooth movement, leaving Leo to do a quick face wash with his hands, sighing and willing away the frisson of sexual energy Jim had caused.

“Dammit, Jim,” he breathes as he leans over to let the water drain from the tub.

“What?” Jim's toweling off behind him.

“Nothing.” Leo rises and Jim wraps a towel around him. “I can handle drying myself.” He says it with a bit of impatience in his voice, but quels it. “Thank you for the lovely bath, darlin'. It was just what I needed.” He drops a kiss onto Jim's moist lips.

“Glad you enjoyed it. C'mon, I pulled in some favors with Chef to have dinner delivered to us.”

“Wow, you must've pulled in a lot of favors. She hates doing that.” Leo towels his head dry.

“Ordinarily she does, but you took care of a couple of her staff today, and because of that she had a full rotation for the dinner rush. She was very grateful to you. And, she made it very clear it's because of _you_ that she's doing it.” Jim grins, handing Leo a bathrobe. He stoops down to gather up their clothing and boots.

“Well, that is mighty kind of her, but I'm pretty sure my entire staff took care of everyone, Jim. It takes an army to keep everyone on this boat fit as a fiddle. Here, give me that.” He takes the two pairs of boots from Jim's overwhelmed hands.

“Thanks.” They leave the bathroom, passing an female crew member in a bathrobe with a basket of bottles and towels. “Thanks for the bath memo, Captain!” she says brightly. “I can't wait.”

“The tub is warm and empty, ready for you,” Jim says. “Enjoy!”

“Real water showers and baths,” Leo says. “Your crew is gonna love you even more.”

When they reach their cabin, a cart with several covered dishes and a flower—a terran rose from the botanical bay—awaits them. “This is gonna be good,” Jim says. “In addition to the water, the away team identified some vegetables that are complementary to some of ours. And yes, the survey teams used what we found about the apples today to confirm that those agents are not present, so don't complain.”

“I wasn't going to complain! I was going to ask if you were absolutely certain they're all right.” Jim pushes the cart to the small table and sets the plates on it. “I think I'll get dressed before eating. You?”

“Why? I'll only pull all your clothes off after we finish.” Jim says it so matter-of-factly that it makes Leo smile.

“You certain you gonna get laid, Captain?” Leo asks.

“Maybe,” Jim says coming to stand beside him and nudges his shoulder. “But I'm certain _you_ are gonna get laid.”

Leo arches an eyebrow. “Wellll, in that case.” He takes Jim's face in his hands and kisses him. It quickly turns passionate as Jim wraps his arms about Leo's body and presses into him. Leo cradles Jim's head in the crook of his arm, a very possessive move that he knows never fails to get Jim revved up even more. Jim loves to be held like this, probably because he went through much of his life not being well loved, first by an absent parent and then of his own volition. Jim had never wanted to be close to anyone as a young man; it hurt too much to pour his heart into a relationship, only to be left or to leave it behind. It had taken years for Leo to break through the layers of hurt and mistrust, years of devotion and care to get Jim to open his heart to him. Because Jim Kirk has a generous heart. And now that he, Leo, has it, has Jim's trust and love, he’d vowed to never, ever to abuse it. And that is what his own life has taught him, to be true and loyal and to love Jim, always.

The kiss ends only when Jim's stomach gurgles. The dinner that has been prepared for them smells divine, and with hands joined, they sit across from each at the small table.

Leo lifts the cover off his plate and assesses the food. “Hmm. It smells great, but I'm having a hard time with these blue blobs.”

Jim spears a blue blob with his fork, and sniffs it. “Oh! Potato!” He pops it in his mouth. “Pretty good, Bones.”

“I'm gonna trust you on that.” And he digs into his food. “Yeah, this is good. Really good.”

Fifteen minutes later, they finish. “Would it be rude of me to lick my plate?” Jim asks.

“I won't tell if you won't.” Leo puts his napkin of the table next to his equally empty plate. “Thank you for arranging for us to eat here. After seeing so much puke today--”

“Which we are not going to talk about any more,” Jim says, pushing away from the table and standing. “Come on. I have something else planned for you.”

“Jim,” Leo says, exasperated, as he takes Jim's hand, “you've done enough already. Really, I'm very grateful.”

“No, come one. I wanna do this for you,” he says, leading them into the bedroom.

There are more electronic candles that give the whole room a soft glow. “Noticed you've been rubbing the back of your neck again, and I know it's bothering you. Will you let me take care of that?”

Well, how can he say no to a Jim Kirk back rub, especially when his neck really is bothering him? “Please. Thanks, Jim.”

Silently, Jim unknots the tie on the robe and pushes it down Leo's shoulders; it puddles around his feet. Jim takes in his naked body with appreciative and greedy eyes. “Still got it, Bones, after all these years.” Jim kisses him. He pulls him to the bed and bids him to lay down on his stomach.

Leo senses Jim removing his robe, and then is treated to the warmth of bare skin on his. Leo relaxes, fully trusting what Jim is doing even though he cannot see. He hears Jim rubbing his hands together, smells the odor of a scented oil—exotic and unfamiliar—and feels warm, slippery hands, strong fingers digging into sore places along his neck and spine: the trapezius, deltoid, levator scapulae, rhomboideus major and minor, the major muscles that cramp and ache as he carries the weight of the world around. Jim works all those areas, well worn areas, over and over again, pushing the pain and worry away and out of his body. After ten minutes, Leo feels himself melting into the soft blanket. He drifts thoughtless and carefree, enjoying the feel of Jim's hands, Jim's warmth, the smell of the oil, the quiet of their room, the freedom from the stress of the day...

“Still with me, Bones?” Jim asks.

Leo can only huff out a response of unintelligible words. His brain seems to have disconnected from his body. Jim laughs quietly. “Guess not. But that's good.” He slides off of Leo's back side. “Think you can roll over for me?”

Leo tries but can't quite convince his muscles to work together, so with a laugh, Jim pushes him until he makes it onto his back. He does, though, manage to give Jim a smile. “Oh, and what's this?” Jim asks. “Is that for me?”

Despite his torpor, Leo's cock is at half-flag, obviously interested in something other than sleep. “Traitorous bastard,” Leo says. “Thought I was going to. . UNGH!”

Jim swallows the traitor down and within a few sucks has brought it fully to life. Leo's head spins as Jim works on him, sucking and then blowing warmth across the increasingly sensitive head. He could never resist Jim, especially like this, especially with his impossibly hot mouth around his cock. It's a startling contrast, the growing tension in his balls and the languidity of his limbs and mind. Without his usual running mental commentary, without worrying if he's arousing Jim, he comes with only the barest of perception. Jim gently finishes his orgasm, licking his softening cock, kissing it as it retracts. He looks up and gives Leo a smile, a very self-satisfied smile.

Leo can hardly return the gesture he's so sleepy. “Jim,” he says softly, “Jim. . . .”

Jim crawls up the bed, placing kisses to Leo's skin along the way, then wraps his arms about his shoulders and pulls in close. “Yeah, Bones?”

“Love you, Jim. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Bones. Sleep, now.”

And that's the last he hears as . . . .


End file.
